Gemotions

He stared at the blank screen, his breath hitching in his chest. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple, blurring his vision. The air in the interrogation room felt thick, oppressive, like a suffocating blanket. He'd meant to text his lawyer about a potential plea bargain, a lifeline in a sea of trouble. Instead, a message about a detail he'd been desperately trying to suppress – a detail about the missing money – was sent to the detective’s personal phone.

He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. His gaze darted to the two officers across the table, their faces impassive. He wanted to scream, to confess everything, but his tongue felt heavy, unresponsive. The click of a pen on the table was deafening in the charged atmosphere.